


Go Your Own Way

by Weliany



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mild Smut, One Shot, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weliany/pseuds/Weliany
Summary: You have moved on since Loki left you eight months ago. However, when he unexpectedly flashes back into your life, the unresolved issues between the two of you resurface.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Character(s), Loki/OC, Loki/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Go Your Own Way

The phone rang in the middle of the night, extracting you from a blissful slumber. You blamed yourself for not turning your phone off before going to bed. You lazily stretched one arm to pick up, resolute to keep your eyes shut because submitting them to the blinding light emanating from the screen would make it impossible for you to go back to sleep afterward. “Wut?” you asked with a grunt, your voice hoarse with sleep. It was the best you could do in these circumstances.

The answer came as a swear immediately followed by a sincere apology, “Didn’t thought of the time difference.” The voice that had so carelessly deprived you from your precious needed sleep was one of broken promises, one you have missed and cursed every day. That voice belonged to none other than your ex, “Loki?”

“I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“T’is all right.” you lied. “Why'd you call?”

“Well, you might find it silly, but I noticed earlier today that this is Philip’s birthday and, erm...” Loki laughed, but you have perceived his embarrassment. You pictured him running a hand through his long raven hair, looking sideways with that nervous grin of his that he had no control over in spite of being a master at illusion. “It’s, erm, silly really.” he paused, breathing heavily over the phone. You wondered where he was as he sounded a bit winded.

“No, it’s...it’s fine. I can turn this into a video call if you’d like,” you offered, getting out of bed and walking to your living room where Philip the tortoise was asleep.  
Loki tried to dissuade you from doing so but, at least you turned on the speakers as you entered the living room. At the sound of Loki, your pet’s head emerged from its shell. “He heard you,” you told Loki.

“You tricked me.” You heard the smile in his voice. You had picked up a thing or two, during your years dating the God of Mischief. However, it always comes as a surprise for him to be the victim and no the trickster. No matter how small and innocent the trap might be.

It was an eerie yet pleasant sight, the one of your pet pecking at the screen of your phone as it listened to Loki’s voice. The clever tortoise had understood that it came from the little machine which seemed to unnerve it. After months – eight to be exact – without hearing from Loki, you foolishly thought Philip had forgotten all about him. Or perhaps the thought was rooted in your own desires that it had, because you could not erase him from your memory, let alone your heart. You sat on your sofa while Loki wished Philip a happy birthday and said in cooing voice, “I hope you’re behaving.” The tortoise turned its head to you.

“Where are you now?” you asked, after a moment of silence, surprising yourself with the casualness of your tone.

“Oh, a charming place made solely of mud and mosquitoes. You’d love it.”

“Are there any frogs?”

“Hm, let me see,” he paused, obviously searching the area. “Sorry, love, there’s none at the moment.”

“Oh. Maybe next time,” you laughed. But as your smile slowly left your face, tears came burning and blurring your vision. It might as well be the result of tiredness or the heartbreak you still suffered from. Whatever the reason was, you doubted you were able to tell the difference. “I – I should go back to sleep.”

“Of course. Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s all right. Take care.”

You waited for him to reply but there was nothing but his breathing. It made the painfully vivid impression that he was here, sitting next to you, his arm curled around your shoulders and his head resting on top of yours. You felt the ghosts his fingers dancing on your skin that reacted immediately. You closed your eyes and leaned against your phone, wanting to feel his breath caress your cheek.

But he was not here, with you.

You fought against all the things you wanted to say and all those you wanted to hear only because you believed that moment had passed a long time ago. Loki had been, but no longer was, a part of your life. A splendid, impetuous, loving part that has been broken into million little pieces eight months ago.

You were unsure of who hung up first because none of you said anything before silence slapped you awake in the middle of the night.

* * *

The next day, you went to work and it went by dreadfully slow, not because the job was the dullest one ever – you had accustomed to that unchanging fact pretty soon – nor because your eyes and brain kept threatening you to shut down due to lack of sleep, no. The day went dreadfully slow because you had one thing on your mind. The one thing you were not supposed to think about. The one thing that was dangerously close to keeping you away from the edge of sanity.

  
You tried to avoid empty mind spaces and focused all your brain power on your work and surroundings but, at the far back, right there, behind a pillar, half hidden by the shadows of your memory, Loki lurked. And with each careless step you took during the day, he crept closer and closer until he was standing right behind you, spreading whispers of tantalizing thoughts.

  
Stubborn as you were, you ignored them, too aware that opening the Loki’s box would definitely be a mistake. If I speak his name, you told yourself, I’ll be damned for sure. You chose to leave him in the dark corners of your mind, doing your best to distract yourself until his haunting presence began to fade away. You convinced yourself that you would never hear directly from him ever again because it had been Philip’s first birthday since the break-up, and perhaps Loki missed him so much that he deliberately went over the wall he has erected on the day he has left you behind.

  
However, some little part of you, tiny yet quite loud, suggested that, maybe, it was not the only reason. That, maybe, he missed you as well and used Philip’s birthday as an excuse to hear from you. No, you answered the voice. I can’t walk that road now that I’m here and finally standing on my own two feet. He won’t call again. I’m sure he won’t. You reasoned with yourself only to be proven wrong a few weeks later.

* * *

An unknown number appeared on your screen and, as usual, you dismissed it and let it go to voicemail, convinced as you were that would deal with some random overzealous telemarketer trying to sell you an insurance for the bike you never rode or convince you to switch for a new phone plan you didn’t need if you were to pick up.

Therefore, you expected nothing from this unknown caller until they did the unexpected, and left a message.

As you walked your way up the stairs leading to the floor of the office, your phone chimed, interrupting your thoughts and climb. You pulled it out of your pocket and stared at it, mystified by the white blinking icon. “What the fuck?”

You resumed your ascension but, with each step toward your final destination you wondered who might have called and left you a message. Your sweaty hands, in which your phone warmed‑up, twitched. You took a look at the time, examining closely the digital clock on your screen and gambled that you will not be late if you acted fast. It may be nothing, you thought.

A little bit nervous, you pressed your thumb against the voicemail icon and guided your phone to your eager ear. A robotic voice announced with a programmed polite tone that you had, “One‑new‑message.” to which you replied with a certain annoyance, “No shit Sherlock!”

“Hi! It’s me – erm – I mean, it’s Loki.” He sighed and cursed lowly at himself, clearly ill‑at‑ease which was not something you had witnessed a lot in the past. “I personally wanted to let you know that my dear brother, Thor, has taken the final step with his beloved goddess. The news of their engagement will soon reach the ends of your world I’m sure, but since we had a ongoing, I thought it would be best for me to tell you in person. Well, not as much in person as I’ve hoped to but – erm – you get the picture. I seem to recall there was a price involved, but for the life of me can’t remember the nature of it. So, if you’d be so inclined as to call me _back_ , I’d like to settle that debt as soon as possible.”

The robotic voice replaced Loki’s, shaking you from your trance. But as it asked if you would like to listen to it again, your mind drifted.

Thor and Ororo Munroe, two living legends, rulers of their own worlds, heroes of Earth, and all‑around gods, bound before the universe for all the time being. Just to think about it made you dizzy and filled with joy.

You listened to Loki’s voicemail again. It was all very formal though at some point, something shifted from the back of his throat, giving your inner voice – the one convinced that Loki has called you because he missed you – enough power to summon an old memory.

_“What are you looking at, darling?” Loki purred against your ear as his lips brushed the sensitive skin of your neck and his arms slid around your waist.  
_

_“Your brother.”  
_

_“Oh! Not quite the answer I was expecting.” he pouted.  
_

_You smiled and leaned in so he would peck your cheek and rest his chin on your shoulder. He gently rocked your body, following the rhythm of a music only he could hear. “Look,” you said to him, your hand guiding his chiseled jaw upwards so he might watch his brother conversing with the goddess everyone called Storm._

_“If that’s not a match made in heaven I don’t know what is.” you added with a dreamy smile.  
_

_“I will agree that she is a force of nature, a true goddess within her own rights. How unfortunate that I met you before I met her.”  
_

_You promptly turned, still locked in his tender embrace, glaring. “Come now, darling. You know I’m merely joking,” he said, and tried to steal a kiss from you. However you tilted your head back to avoid his lips which led him to tighten his grasp. You were not going anywhere. His tongue ran over his lips as a grin emerged on his face. “No one, goddess or human, compares to you, my love,” he whispered, taking your chin between his fingers and inched closer.  
_

_“Nice try.” You turned back and lean against his firm chest. You gazed at the God of Thunder and the Rain Goddess, convinced that you were the privileged witness of the blossoming of one extraordinary love. Still gazing at them, you moved one hand up and around Loki’s face, burying your fingers in his hair. Loki nestle his nose against the crook of your neck, and he sighed with content while you abstently twisted one lock of his raven hair around your forefinger._

_“I’ll bet you anything that those two will end up married within the next year,” you whispered.  
_

_“Anything, huh?” he breathed, briefly squeezing the flesh of your stomach.  
_

You listened to Loki’s voicemail a third time, noticing every pause and reading between the silences. I should stop, you told yourself though you kept on listening. Who cares about some old bet we made when we were together? I certainly don’t. And with that you deleted the message, confirming with a strong “YES” when the disembodied voice asked you if you were sure of your decision.

But as soon as the message was gone, the urge to hear him again itched and burned. It was an illogical response rooted in the loneliness of your heart, yet it burned nonetheless.

* * *

You kept it all to yourself, refusing to speak about Loki’s calls. Those were the secrets you had chosen to take to your grave and you hoped there would be no more of them.

Your prayers were not only unheard, but discarded altogether as a gentle knock on your front door forced you to leave the comfort of your bed came one Saturday morning. You dragged your feet through the small living room, glaring at your sleeping tortoise.

Before answering you checked your face in the mirror glued to the door. Oh boy, you thought looking at your reflection. You rearranged your hair and rubbed your face to sooth your gaunt features. Whoever was behind the door you hoped they were worth waking you before eight during the week-end.

“Loki?”

“Why, it is good to see I haven’t been forgotten,” he grinned.

You gawked, thinking it was only a dream and that this illusion would eventually go away. You prayed with all your faith for the illusion to disappear as it came but, Loki’s voice saying your name shattered your hope and made you shiver. He was towering you, scanning – no – devouring every inch of your reddened face with his laughing, tempting eyes. His lips twisted in a satisfied smirk. “You haven’t called me back,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You didn’t leave a number,” you answered with an unearthly casualness. He was holding a pink box with a transparent lid. Inside the box where a few of your favorite pastries. Please be gone, you prayed, please just go away! You prayed as Loki’s gaze lingered on you. But he did not. Instead, Loki shifted on his long legs and said, “I wasn’t sure what to bring you.”

“Uh?”

“You’ve won the bet.” he reminded you.

“Is that why you’re here?” you asked, looking up. “Because of some stupid old bet?”

With a fast-fading smile, Loki answered, “I had to come. For work. So I just thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“How convenient.”

“Right,” Loki said, pushing the pink box in your hands. You caught him glancing above your shoulders, to the inside of your apartment. It had remained more or less the same as the day he left, except for his belongings, now gone to the wind. Throwing, burning, destroying them had been a crucial part of your healing process, but now that he was standing on your threshold, a sense of guilt seized you and made you question whether or not you should have given his things back to him.

Time suspended itself as long as no one spoke, burdening the area with sharp‑edged tension. Loki sighed, confounded by the cold welcome though it must not have been a surprise. Loki stared for a moment, taking in the sight of you with your messy hair and creased shirt, before he scratched his throat and averted his eyes elsewhere. He was at your mercy, should you choose to give him any. You had the power to cast him away, ringing the bells of shame behind him, or, to reach out and settle your troubles. Tabula rasa. Your heart could not beat louder when you invited him over for breakfast.

Loki set forth in your apartment that he briefly shared with you an eternity ago. “Hello, my scaly friend,” he said, walking past you and directly toward the tortoise.

“How have you been doing? Oh, yes, I missed you too.” Loki beamed as Philip pecked his finger and bowed its head to be pet. Like a proud child, Loki turned to you, seeking your approval and admiration, for he was the only person Philip allowed to touch its head the way he did. You shot him a smile from behind the counter, nothing more.

You turned on the small radio in your kitchen to listen to some folk and country music while you put the kettle on the stove. For a second, nothing seemed to have changed. You glided toward the cupboards, humming a tune you knew by heart, some words escaping your mouth now and then.

You opened the door of the cupboards and stood on your tiptoes to grab a couple of plates. Loki followed the lines and curves of your body only to rest his eyes on your bare legs. The pajama short you wore revealed more skin than it concealed and put in plain sight the scars that barred the back of your thighs. Loki gulped, his breath suddenly short and painful.

“Do you need help or anything?” he offered to distract himself from the marks on your flesh. “I’m good. Tea’s almost ready. Green mug?” you asked with your head hidden by your hair as you arranged the pastries on the plates. “Please.” he answered. You invited him to make himself comfortable as you finished in the kitchen.

Loki sat on the sofa, on the exact same spot where he used to sit when he lived here with you, and stretched his legs, moaning. “Tough day at work? Or should I say ‘night’?” you asked as you brought the two plates heavy with sweetness and sugar. He freed you from the weight and placed them on the square coffee table.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” he answered, making a napkin appear for you to put on your lap.

It was remarkably easy to slip into the old ways, especially when you and Loki light–heartedly chatted about anything and everything. You shared a few laughs and knowing looks and just like that, everything felt like it used to be. As if Loki has never left you heartbroken and soul‑shattered. As if he still belonged within these walls.

You slumped between the soft cushions of the sofa, your belly full and your tongue numb with too much sugar. You turned the TV on. “Don’t laugh, but I’ve been pretty caught up with that show,” you said with a flush on your cheeks. Loki glanced at the TV. “Oh you’ll like the next episode I’m sure,” he said in all seriousness.

You shot him a dumbfounded glance. Loki grinned. “You’ve watched it already?” you asked.

“I’m only two episodes ahead of you,” he casually revealed. “Don’t look at me like that. You should be proud of yourself, woman. You’ve corrupted me with all your TV nonsense and now I find myself in need of more.”

You chortled, making yourself comfortable next to him. “TV’s good for your soul,” you said, playing the episode.

His knee brushed yours. A couple of times at first, then more and more regularly. His arms were spread on the back of the sofa and the tip of his fingers were just an inch from your hair. It would be so easy for him to touch it and then reach for your shoulder and get you curled up against his chest. It would be a delight to submit your skin to his touch. It would be, if he had not left eight months ago.  
Loki shifted next to you, folding his arms on his chest as he straightened himself.

You sensed the tension and moved to be as far from him as possible without being too obvious about your own discomfort. Keeping your distance was easi since you were caught by the television. However, after some time you noticed a change in the air. Loki has fallen asleep. Exhaustion made him sleep with his mouth half‑open and strands of his silky dark hair across his face. He never seem more vulnerable than when he in a state of deep slumber.

You gently combed his hair back, careful not to wake him although he moved under your touch. Loki leaned in your hand and you indulged him for a minute until it became too painful for you to go on. But as you backed away, he jerked his eyes open, making your heart skip a beat.

From the moment he has showed at your door you have stopped thinking properly. It scared you to see how simple it had been to pretend nothing ever happened, to act as if he has just been away for work and not because he has chosen to abandon you. And now, he was lounged on your sofa, locking eyes with you, his hand laying across from yours. All it took was a breath for your fingers to brush and your lips to meet.

Your body ached under his touch. Your skin burned while he numbed your flesh with his hands. The air you breathed was his and his alone, as the tongue that ran heavy and hungry in your mouth. Despite the heat and the lust building within, you still had some clarity left in your mind. A vague remembrance of a broken heart and a shattered soul. But the moment you felt a tear that did not birth from your eyes, rolling along the lines of your nose, was the moment you gave in completely.  
With your lips locked on his, you pushed Loki so he would be on his back. His grasp was firm yet tender, eager to have every inch of you. The only time he would free you was to run his hands in your hair or under your shirt. You arched your back, unable to take it more of his caresses.

It became torture that you could not explore Loki’s toned and lean body as you would like because of the layers of clothes covering him. However, you managed to get a few moans out of him and each of them were an absolute delight. But for each moan of his, you were due one too and Loki knew exactly how to get them. His hands slid under your pair of shorts where he found only the bare skin of your ass instead of the accepted cotton panties. He cupped your buttocks, digging his nails in the soft flesh, and gave a strong push so you would fall against the hard bump that stretched the fabric of his pants. You swallowed his tongue as you rubbed against his hardness. Loki whimpered in your mouth, clutching your ass.

Loki would match your every move with a small thrust from his hips, squeezing your buttocks until it hurt so much that you let out a sharp cry of both pain and pleasure. And as you did, you broke the tacit rule of not taking your lips away from him.

Loki froze but kept you pressed against his arousal. With one hand you pushed your all your hair to one side of your face where it would not hide him from you. He panted and his cheeks were of a pale red instead of the usual perfect pearly white. You leaned on your elbows just to take a better look at him, fearing what must be going on behind his vibrant green eyes. You were on the verge of sharing your concern when Loki sat up straight. As your legs went round his waist, Loki’s hands left your buttocks to land on either side of your face. You waited for him to say something because you did not trust your voice to speak your mind. Actually, you did not even trust your mind so, perhaps, it was for the best that you kept quiet.

You gazed at him and he gazed back. All could be said, though you had no idea how to predict what might come out of your mouth, let alone his. You remained seated on his lap, with your feet crossed behind his back, as he lovingly framed your face. You tilted your head back and let his hands fall. You unfolded your legs and made yourself kneel in front of him, finding a precarious balance on the remaining pillows. You towered Loki who had to lift his chin to keep looking at you.

Slowly, you took your shirt off, enjoying the brush of the fabric on your sensitive skin.

Loki followed the movement, swallowing hard. You inched closer to him while guiding his hands to your bare breast. Loki parted his lips, hushing a gasp out. You began playing with the buttons of his black shirt when you caught him frowning for a second before he bowed his head, depriving you from the kiss you meant to give him. Perhaps you have taken things a step too far. Or perhaps, you had been mistaken all along and Loki did not want this – you – anymore.

There was a weight in your stomach. You needed to be rid of it, to be rid of the tension building within. Why won’t he say anything? You asked yourself, resenting Loki for his puzzling silence. You wished you had powers such as his, to be able to invade the privacy of his thoughts and get much needed answers out of him. But you were just a human. A regular human that has crossed paths with a god who deigned look your way.

You withdrew yourself from the touch you have imposed, and sighed. Already, you craved for him and that ached more than when he touched you after months of deprivation. You bowed your head as well, trying to figure the best way to end the awkwardness rising. Should you ask him to leave or should you retrieve to your room and let him choose if he’d like to stay or go? Neither of those options appealed to you but you could not stay and do nothing, say nothing.

“I’m sorry.” you finally let out, staring at your hands closed in fists on your lap. “I don’t know what came over me. I thought that you’d – you’d wanted to.” You closed your eyes, frustrated with yourself for struggling to speak. “Well, no. I don’t think I was thinking actually. I just – rolled with it.” Silence followed your confession and the burden of your shame grew less bearable with each breath you forced yourself to take.

You realized that you were still half‑naked and reached for your t‑shirt. You covered yourself and stepped away from the sofa and the embarrassment soiling your favorite spot.

You rubbed your face with the back of your hands, hoping against hope you would not cry and that he would leave. But Loki got up and closed the distance you created by leaving. He stood behind you, a few step away, but his presence overwhelmed you nonetheless. You felt your hairs stir on your neck while your whole body awaited his hands to circle your waist, his chin to rest on your shoulder while his lips would ever so gently brushed your skin and teased you. However, he dared not come closer. You heard him exhale loudly, almost in defeat.

“I wanted it.” he confessed. “I mean that I – I want it.”

There was no definition of what ‘it’ could be but you did not care. In that moment, all you wanted, was him. Whatever he was willing to give you, you’d take. You spun on your heels and found yourself much closer than you intended. However, you thought it best to keep your distance, no matter how ridiculously small it was. If you were to step toward him, to even inch his way, you would be caught in his net and turn yourself into a willing prisoner.

“But – erm – I can’t give you more.” He played with his hands, the way he always has when nervous. That has not changed either.

“You could, if you'd want to.”

“Don’t go there.” He begged you, but it was too little too late to stop you.

“Go where?” There was no provocation, no teasing when you spoke but the words hung heavy in the air. It was as if you had cast a net into the sea and all you had to do was wait before you catch the big fish.

“You know where.” he answered with coldness.

“Actually I don’t, because we never _talked_ about this. All you did was ditch me three days before our wedding, with a note.”

“I know the way I left wasn’t fair but don’t think I didn’t care.”

“With a fucking note, Loki? Really? Tell me how much you cared then because it wasn’t super clear to me.” You stormed out of the living room only to come back seconds after with a folded piece of paper. “My love,” you read louder than necessary, “You will hate me for this, but at least you will get to live. I have to protect you from me. Forever yours, Loki.” With rage, you turned the piece of paper into a ball and threw it at him. “Forever yours, yeah, that was a real kicker that one.” you scoffed.

Loki peered at the note written on the damaged paper and said with a shaky breath, “You almost died the night before.”

“It wasn’t exactly the first time.”

“Precisely! Can’t you see how messed up that was?”

“What was messed up was you saying yes to me when you knew how this was going to turn out.”

“I could never have foreseen this happening to us.”

“No? Who are you trying to kid, Loki?” You stepped toward him. “I talked with Lane and Trevor. Even with Jane Foster, which was super awkward since she and Thor were broken up for a while. But I talked to them, and I asked them if it was worth it.” Loki raised his head, his face torn and his green eyes wet with great sorrow. “I asked if being with their almighty counterparts was worth the risk of wearing a constant target on their back, if it was worth risking becoming your greatest weakness, and do you know what they all said?”

Loki remained quiet. “I _chose_ you, Loki. Knowingly and willingly. And you – you had no right of making this decision for the both us. I could forgive you for leaving me, I mean, I’d never try to stop you but, you did worse than just leave. I see that now. Not only did you betrayed me but you betrayed us. Everything we stood for.”

“I didn’t mean to. You have to trust me, love. I foolishly believed I could make you happy and safe. But how could I? I can’t stop wreaking havoc and making new enemies even when I try to be part of a team. I had to...”

“It was my choice, Loki. _Mine_.” you said, hitting your chest with your fist.

“Yes, a choice you made for _my_ sake. Do you really think I could live on if you’d died because of me? I may be a god but, only my love for you is everlasting.” he paused, waiting for you to make a snappy comeback but all you could do was chew your tongue. “Those marks on your legs, those _scars_ , are because of me. Your injured elbow was because of me.”

“And the burned wall in the kitchen, the broken tiles in the bathroom,” you interrupted “And let’s not forget my heart while we’re at it. And Philip’s. You swore to love me and just be there but you couldn’t do that, could you? As soon as it became a little tough, you bounced.” You spat the last word to his face. If it were your style you would have slap him as well. “Was it all lies, Loki? Everything you said to me and – and promised me, was it all just lies?”

Loki discarded your rightful anger with a sneer. “If that helps you move on.”

“Don’t you dare.” you hissed between your teeth, pointing your forefinger at him.

“What do you want me to say, uh?” he suddenly yelled. “You want me to say that I never loved you? That I never contemplated the idea of making you one of my kind if I could because the idea of losing you was too much to bear? How could I settle for just a few _years_ when I wanted an eternity spent with you? But you are a mortal, a _weak_ flesh bag that I should have never cared for. You were not supposed to mean anything to me.” He paused and sniffled, unashamed of the tears that have escaped the prison of his dark eyelashes.

You took the blow, his words already repeating themselves to you. “Well, tough luck.” you said with nothing else to add. You felt like a little girl who has just be yelled at by her parents and desperately wanted to have the final word. You were sick to your stomach. This was not how you’d envisioned your reunion with Loki.

Because in spite of all the work you had done to move on, you still, sometimes – in your moments of weakness – dreamed about the day you would cross paths again.

But there you were, you standing in one corner of the room and him retreating to another, with an impassable space diving you two. Silence buzzed in your ears.

You glanced at Philip who has hidden behind his rock as he used to whenever Loki and you got into an argument. That has not changed either, you reflected. Are we doomed to repeat our mistakes, to fight endlessly about the same unresolvable issues?  
There was a void where there should be rage and bitterness. It was growing and you wondered if it should ever be filled. It would be so much simpler to let it wash over you. To feel nothing. Your head hurt and your stomach burned. You sat on the sofa, folding your legs under your chin. “God, I hate this.” you sobbed, crestfallen. You peered at the ceiling, wishing for your tears to go back where they came from when the cushions slumped beside you.

Loki has joined you, one leg above the other, his arm stretched on the back of the sofa. You wondered why he had not leave yet, already knowing the answer. He has not left for the same reason you have not thrown him out. “I truly never meant for any of this.” he said. “If I’d known, I’d...”

“I’d do it all over again.” you said, turning sharply to him. You faced his bemused gaze and noticed the wet trails on his cheeks and how dried his lips have become.

“Even knowing how shitty it’ll get?” Loki asked.

“In a heartbeat.” You began to reach for him but stopped midway. “I hate the ending. I do, but, man, did we had a perfect beginning.” you chuckled and sobbed at the same time reminiscing on how you two met and how your relationship started. “And the middle was...”

“Epic.”

“Epic.” you agreed with a short laugh.

“I wish we could go back there.”

“Me too.” you sighed. A moment passed.

“But we can’t, can we?”

You gazed at him and you dreamed. You dreamed you could say yes. That for some reason, those last eight months would be erased from both your memories and you would find yourself walking on air because in three days time you will marry the greatest love of your life.

You bowed your head, giving him the answer he dreaded. “No. And I know it’s not right for me to love you still.”

In that moment, you craved for his arms. Against all odds and all logic, you craved for him to take you against him and to hush sweet words in your ear. The trailing memory of all those beautiful little moments wounded you. It came as shock when you heard yourself ask him to hold you and a greater shock when he did.

His arms surrounded you. Loki rest his chin on the top of your head, stroking your hair. You had one arm around his waist and the other on his stomach. He planted a kiss in your hair, whispering in ancient tongue. He has never revealed the secrets of his words. But whatever they meant, they soothed you. Seconds turned into minutes. None of you were ready to break the embrace. Loki and you were entangled. One being instead of two until you fell asleep to the beating of his heart.

You woke up to the relative silence of your place. You had been carefully lied down on the sofa, with your comfy blanket spread over you, and your feet put up on a thick pillow. It was trademark Loki yet he was nowhere to be seen.

You looked around, as you sat up and wondered if all at been just a dream. A twisted play created by your wilful aching mind. But as you saw the empty box lying on the counter, you cursed at yourself. How could have you been so naive? You have shown him your weakness and he has taken advantage of that, leaving you – once again – alone and miserable.

“Did I wake you?” Loki asked getting out of the bathroom.

“What? N – No. I was just...”

“You thought I’d left.” He stated your unspoken thought, a plain and simple fact but you saw how much it hurt him to say it outloud.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I’m not to repeat the same mistake.” he paused, unsure if he should sat on the sofa or stand where he was. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Loki flashed a smile at you and went straight for the kitchen where he moved with ethereal grace.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” you told him. You did not wait for his answer and locked yourself in the bathroom, gasping for air. Then, you entered the shower, drowsy and weighed down by the eeriness of the day. As soon as the first warm droplets hit your skin with the force of a storm, you felt your body relaxed and getting numb. You closed your eyes and put your head up, letting the water wash away the tears and the angst and the tiredness. You opened your mouth and let the water fill it to the point where you would choke.

You coughed and spat. Your soaked hair fell as heavy velvet curtain on each side of your face while you looked down at the little whirlpool between your feet.

* * *

“How was it?” Loki asked, shooting a glance at you while you closed the bathroom door behind you.

“Liberating.” you answered, seating on one of the stools behind the counter. “You made pasta.”

“À la Loki.” he grinned, pushing a plate in front of you. As soon as the smell of it reached your nose a hole opened in your stomach willing to devour every little bite of the meal Loki has prepared for you.

“You’ve improved.” you remarked with your mouth full.

“Had to.”

“How so?”

“Banner is some sort of a gourmet, apparently.” he scoffed.

You choked on your food, spilling some on your plate as you exclaimed, “Wait. You’re living with Banner? Like, actually living with him.”

“That’s the arrangement.”

“I’d pay great money to see how that’ll turn out.”

“Why, I’m afraid we don’t do refund.” Loki smiled. “So, don’t hold your breathe.”

“Still, you and the Hulk, under the same roof. That must be worth something. Remember when he tossed you like that baby toy Sophie the giraffe?” you teased.

“Ah ah! Very funny. Keep that up and there would be no desert for you, young lady.” Loki said taking the empty plate from your hands and turning to the sink to clean it right away.

“There’s desert?” you asked and immediately walked around the counter and grabbed the dish towel and dry what Loki washed. You synced your movements to his, working side by side, your shoulders barely touching. “So, what kind of desert are we talking about?”

Loki glanced your way, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. As soon as you were done with the dishes, another plate appeared on the coffee table and on it a steaming apple crumble. Your mouth grew wet in an instant. “I’ll make us some tea.” Loki said, his voice a rumble that made you quake.

“Did you make it yourself?”

“Would you believe me if I said I did?”

“No.”

“Good girl.” he answered with a smile. While the water boiled, Loki turned his attention solely to Philip who couldn’t help closing its eyes under Loki’s most gentle touch. You watched, almost forgetful of the nearby treat teasing your nostrils, and before you had the chance to turn your tongue seven times in your mouth you said, “When do you leave?”

Loki froze. His hand was suspended in the air, just above Philip round shell and his gaze clouded, transfixed. You wondered if he was even breathing for his chest did not move an inch. “In the morning.” he let out, taking his hand away from Philip and walking back to the kitchen, purposefully turning his back to you.  
He poured tea in the mugs and sat on the sofa, putting a tactful distance between you and him. Many things happened on that sofa in the past and some almost repeated themselves few hours earlier.

There was only one crumble clearly designed for you but you offered Loki a bite. He politely refused, his gaze touching your face as you began savoring your favorite dessert. “Hm, that is so good.” you said, a hand covering your mouth. “I wanna be buried in this.” You chuckled, careful not to spill food everywhere but noticed how grim Loki suddenly seemed. “I’m – I’m just kidding.”

“I know.”

“Then why the long face?” you asked, putting your plate on the table, unable to enjoy the desert with that heart-rending look casted your way.

Loki tried to smile but his heart was not in it. For the God of Mischief, master in lies and deceit, it was far from being his best work, which made your worries grew even more. You patiently waited for him to answer, knowing that there was a chance he would not. Loki has never been one to share his feelings with ease, not even with you.

You resumed eating, though now, that taste has gone a bit sour. “I am sorry.” Loki rushed the words out as if they were burning his ever cool tongue. “For what I’ve put you through. I handled things…poorly.”

“I’d say.” you snorted and added a shrug for good measure.

“There is nothing I could do or say to make it up to you.”

“On that we agree.” You put down your fork and stared at the crumble. Each bite tasted different, bitter, and soon your hunger for sweetness vanished. “I won’t throw you a pity party, you know that, right?”

“And I’m not asking you to.” he answered, lifting his chin so his gaze could meet yours. “It wouldn’t be fair, and quite frankly I’m doing a _spectacular_ job feeling sorry for myself as it is.”

“Then what do you want? Sympathy, forgiveness?”

Loki chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it. No. I hurt you and for that I truly and unequivocally apologize.” he paused, searching your face for the support and that unconditional love you have promised him in the past. Against all logic, it was still there, bursting in your heart. “This day, so far, has been nothing but weird.” Loki said luxuriously stretching his arms above his head as he let himself fall against the pillows. “Being here, with you, makes it so easy to forget what I did. It scares me. But that’s nothing compared to the love I still bare for you.” Loki stopped himself, his gaze shifting for a second before he looked to his fidgeting fingers. “I shouldn’t have. I am sorry. It’s – It’s wildly inappropriate.”

“Doesn’t make it less true.” You seized the silence to gather your thoughts after Loki's confessions. Those were the words you longed to hear every night, despite the curses you threw with rage and scorn after Loki had left you, while lying in bed and waiting for slumber to claim you. You thought yourself weak and pathetic because of the love you still had for him because he should not deserve a single drop of it. Yet, Loki was right. It has been scarily easy to love him still, to pretend one minute to the next that nothing happened. “I don't think I've ever stop loving you.”

“I don't think I'll ever stop.” Loki answer with a weak voice.

It was not a declaration of love meant to mend the relationship that has swept off your feet once and changed the way you looked at the world. Loving a god has that effect on people. It was more of a declaration of peace meant to sooth the ache of both your broken-hearts, a matter-of-fact that could no longer be ignored when none of you have believed to be worthy of the other's love.

You stared in each other's eyes and shared a smiled. “Stay the night.”

“It would not be wise, love.” he answered, brushing the sideline of your jaw with his hand. You pressed your lips against his palm, kissing it. The smell of his skin immediately awakening a whirlpool of desires. You cast away those born in futile fantasies and held onto to those anchored in reality.

There would not be a happily ever after. This were your last moments with him.

You faced your love as well as your lust and admitted willingly that you sought the pleasure of his company, preferably in bed, wearing nothing but your sweaty skin. “As you wish.” you said against the hollow of his palm, a playful smirk on your face.

It must have sparked something in him because the next minute, Loki’s tongue was chasing yours with hunger. Soon, he slowed down his kiss and deepened it as he took his time exploring your mouth.

You led him to the bedroom you used to share where candles had been magically placed and lit. The view of the room stopped you from walking further. “Too much?” Loki asked with a frown.

“A little.” you answered him. “Don’t.” You grabbed his hand as he was about to make the candles disappear. “I like it this way.”

Loki lifted your chin up so your lips met with his. As your tongue visited his mouth, he carried you to the bed on which he gently lay you down. Loki, leaning on his forearms studied your face with that same frown he had when he asked about the candles. “We can stop if you want.” you told him. “I don’t expect anything else. Do you?”

Loki closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead against yours. His next kiss was the embodiment of a tenderness born in nostalgia and broken hopes. You pressed your hands against his shoulders and pressed against them to erase the distance between his slender body and yours.  
As you find a way to be on top of him, you tilted back and did as you did on the sofa; taking off your shirt and leading his hands to your bare breast. This time Loki did not flinch but rose to fully enjoy what you offered him.

You threw your head back when he ran the tip of his tongue around your erected nipples, grazing your sensitive skin with his teeth. You yanked at his hair to make him stop – you wished to have him as naked as you – but that only convinced him to keep on torturing you. He held you at his mercy with one hand against your neck and the other glued to your the small of your back. There was scarce you could do because Loki only did what he liked. Thankfully, it often matched your own preferences.

His tongue burned cold trails wherever it went, his breath raised hundreds of hairs while his nimble fingers extracted many moans from you. However, the minute he lowered his attention, gasping for air, you took over. You pinned his wrists on the bed, spreading his legs with your knee.

You crawled down on him, holding his vibrant gaze with yours. You played with his expectations, giving him back a taste of the sweet torture he has imposed on you earlier. You teased his length, though every time Loki would tensed, meekly struggling to get free, you would leave it and grazed his balls or kissed his groin until a plaintive groan would escaped his lips as he quivered. Then you would smile and take him in your mouth.

There was no rushing. You lost yourself indulging each and every pleasure, in a tangle of limbs and hair, gasping the stiffness of the air. Past and future, pain and love were no longer relevant.

* * *

You shivered in Loki’s arms.

The sheets have been kicked to the far end of the bed and you were to comfortably numb to even think about moving to pull them back on you. However, a soft blanket appeared landed on you. You thanked Loki with your eyes and he pecked your nose. “One last hurrah, uh?.” you chortled.

“I counted at least two. Or was it three?” Loki said, breaking into a laugh. You laughed as well, though drowsy with sleep. You fought against your heavy eyelids threatening to shut at any moment in order to take you to the land of dreams.

However, you noticed how deep and low Loki’s breathing has become, and felt how limp his arms were around you as he was blissfully falling asleep. “A better ending.” you whispered. Loki shifted and moaned. You shushed him back to sleep with a soft caress and a light kiss on his chin. Loki’s embrace tightened a little before he succumbed to a peaceful slumber that soon claimed you as well.

* * *

Morning came too quick and even though Loki was in no rush to leave, he had to. “Care for some tea?” you asked him, halfway to the kitchen.

You broke fast at the counter. Loki absently petted Philip with a blest smile hung on his face. You thought about the day before, struggling to wrap your mind around what happened. There had been tears and pain but also tenderness and care. A great conflict of feelings that could have ended either way.

Things have been said and done in the midst of it all. Things that were long overdue.

Then it was time for goodbyes.

Loki was at the door, ready to leave. Once he will cross the threshold you and him will both go your own way.

You looked at the god you once loved – and always will – and realized a weight has been lifted from your heart. So when he asked, “Will I see you at my brother’s wedding?” Your answer flooded out of your lips without regrets nor bitterness, “Highly unlikely.” Loki agreed with a nod. He settled his gaze on you and spread his arms. “May I?” You indulged him this last embrace, needing it probably as much as he did.

A stillness took over the room and in that moment there was no doubt in your mind, heart and soul that, this, was the better end.


End file.
